Sun
by Calm Envy
Summary: Bakura Ryou is always staring out a window, alone. Atemu and Jou think he's a freak, but there's something about him that intrigues Malik... A beautiful summer unfolds, and slowly crumples away.  Sequel up.


**Author's Note:** This is written for anybody who has ever missed their childhood. I do. Frequently. A lovely big thank you to my super beta **Fiver**! Go read Homecoming, the characters be popping (hee, I have the habit of slipping into that sort of speech).

Set in a prefecture near Tokyo, with some elements of the perfect 1970's American neighbourhood. How old are my beautiful children? As old as you want them to be. Fluff and angst make lovely cream pies!

* * *

**Sun**

Midsummer afternoon; somebody had carelessly spilled sunlight all over the neighborhood. It bathed the rooftops of the identical neat houses and trickled onto the footpaths. You could throw a ball on it, melt an ice block with it, mix it with water and swim in it.

Dappled by the shadows of sycamore leaves, a young boy lay. Daydreaming about…oh nothing, really. His eyes were closed, but he didn't look as if he were asleep.

Ryou watched him from his window, his arms folded across the sill. He wore a wistful smile on his face.

"You know," Atemu drawled. He paused, as he always did, for dramatic effect. His eyes blinked languidly in the heat, framed by lashes that cast shadows across his cheekbones. Oh, Atemu. He was the most arrogant boy in the city, and why not? People forgave you for things like that when you were a demigod.

It was a wonder that he had ever befriended Malik. Jounouchi was a different story – he was fairly popular and had his own boyish cool – but Malik had little to separate him from any other kid at school. Even his exotic Egyptian looks counted for little in a town that seemed obsessed by bizarre haircuts and plastic surgery.

"You know," Atemu said once more, "that creepy Bakura boy is always _staring_ at you, Malik."

Bakura Ryou was home-schooled. That alone killed off any other of his redeeming qualities. He was on par with a potential serial killer – no, in Atemu's eyes, he _was_ a potential serial killer.

"He loves you," sang Jounouchi.

Malik nearly tripped over a stone, and blushed. "No! He doesn't." It was a gross and horrible thing to say… But secretly Malik was flattered. It was nice to be the centre of attention for somebody, instead of being overshadowed by his friends. Though he never would have admitted it.

"You're right, he doesn't," said Atemu. "Boys living in their basement don't _love_. They lust. He's going to rape you and murder you one day," he added with cold satisfaction.

"Awh, that's digusting, Temu-kun!"

"He's not going to be a rapist," Malik heard himself say.

Jounouchi quickly glanced at Atemu, but didn't say a word.

"Of course he is." Atemu said brusquely. He didn't mention anything more, didn't reprimand Malik like he usually did. The conversation popped like a bubble.

* * *

Had anybody ever spoken to Bakura Ryou before? All he seemed to do was stare out the window. And when you thought about it – what was so wrong with that, really? He had a sweet face and big eyes that said, "I'm lonely." Lonely eyes would look where they wanted.

Malik was surprised when he saw Ryou outside one afternoon. He was paper white from days of being cooped up inside. _Like a toy that's been lying in its box for too long_, Malik thought. You would expect such a toy to be stiff and disjointed. Yet Ryou's hands danced about in delicate movements as he fingered a soft petal, raised a spray of honey-scented blossoms to his face.

It was hard to believe he could ever be dangerous.

"Hi," Malik said, peering over the fence. "You're Ryou-kun, aren't you?"

Ryou dropped the blossoms, surprised.

"Oh. Hello." He had a painted smile like a doll. "And you're Malik-kun."

"I don't see you out very much." Malik's tone was light – perhaps too light, but he didn't know how else to sound.

Ryou tucked one hand in his pocket.

"Don't you like playing outside?"

"Well-"

"Ah, you must be one of those academic kids. That's alright. I do okay at school. Could be better though, heheheh…"

"It isn't that," Ryou said hesitantly. "I've had allergies all my life, but things were a lot worse the past couple of years. My doctor says that I'm getting better now though."

"Really? That's great!"

Ryou smiled timidly.

"Is that why you're home-schooled? Because your allergies were so bad that you couldn't go to normal school? Uh…I mean…" Malik's eyes widened, and he rapidly began to backtrack. "Not that there's anything wrong with- with-"

"You haven't been in Saitama long, have you?" Ryou's smile faded. "Ahh…no…you only moved in last year."

"Yeah." Malik waited expectantly. When there was no reply, "Why? Did I miss something out?"

Ryou sighed. "I wasn't always home-schooled. I used to go to Aomura, if you wanted to know. And my allergies weren't the reason I left."

"Well…" Malik didn't want to pry, but he was curious. He dangled his arms over the picket fence and folded his fingers. "Why then?"

"What can I say?" Ryou bit his lip and shrugged. "I'm weak. I look kind of girly. So I was always an easy target-"

"Who would pick on you?" For a foolish second, Malik was genuinely outraged. His eyes dimmed as he thought of _one_ particular answer, and he tried again. "Back at Aomura, I mean."

"Hey Malik! Get your ass out here!"

Ryou's face became even more ashen then it already was. "Oh. I remembered that I- I'm supposed to be… I have to go now."

"Oh." Malik had been enjoying Ryou's company. He really _was_ bizarre – quiet spoken, timid. Yet he had an awkward charm that Malik liked. "Well, okay, see you later then."

"See you later, maybe." Ryou smiled weakly, and then quickly walked back into his house.

"We should hang out again some-" Malik began but he was cut off.

"Malik, you dick, quit keeping us waiting!" Jounouchi shouted.

What a rude thing to say.

* * *

"What took _you_ so long before?"

The boys were seated on a slowly rotting jetty, feet dipped in the water. Atemu and Jounouchi had string around their fingers, the ends trailing off into the lake.

"Nothing." Malik wished that he had brought string too. "I was just talking to Ryou."

"Eh, who?"

"You know, my neighbour."

"I didn't even know he had a first name."

_You don't seem to know a lot at all! _Malik thought privately. "He was outside for once."

"And?"

"Well, I thought it was _weird_," said Malik defensively. "I had to say something, didn't I?"

"Man, that kid is just-"

"Careful, Malik, you don't want to break his heart do you?" As usual Atemu's silvery voice cut through. "He must be absolutely _stunned_ that you started a conversation with him. He's probably picked out the bouquet and a nice white dress and everything."

Malik froze. He hated when Atemu made comments like that.

"Are we invited then, Malik?" Jounouchi asked, earning a snort from Atemu.

"Ryou does _not_ have a crush on me," Malik said vehemently. And now he sounded exactly like a repetitive toddler having a tantrum. "And we're not getting married!"

Jounouchi punched Malik lightly. "Sure you aren't."

"We're not!"

But Atemu did not appear to hear – or maybe he did, but chose to ignore Malik. He lifted his finger. "I think I got a bite."

* * *

"Hey, don't I recognize you from somewhere?" asked a slightly high-pitched voice. The boys turned around, their feet still damp and tracking prints across the tarmac.

"Well, I am in the top high school soccer team in To-"

"No, not you." The girl brushed Jounouchi off. "Atemu-san!"

Atemu looked utterly bored.

"I get that a lot. And no, I don't have any idea who you are."

"Sure you do!" Her voice was slightly desperate, which did not bode well for her. If there was one thing Atemu despised, it was desperation. "We used to go to primary school together! I wouldn't forget a face like you!"

"Mm, is that so?" Atemu said, not even bothering to bask in the attention. "I can't say the same about you."

What a heartbreaker.

"You were at Aomura, right?"

Atemu shrugged irritably.

"Well, I'm Anzu. Mazaki Anzu. We were in the same class at some point." She laughed lightly. "You used my drink bottle to wash your paintbrushes!"

Atemu's already meager patience now completely dissipated.

"I don't know why you chose to start a conversation with me over something like that. Why don't you talk to Malik – he moved here from Osaka two months ago, so the lucky boy won't have had the great pleasure of speaking to you yet."

Malik frowned. "Actually it was more like half a year-"

"I'm tired of this, Jou," Atemu said imperially.

And Jounouchi followed him, but uncertainly.

"Awh, Temu-kun! Can't believe you rejected that! Did you see the size of her chest?"

"What do you think, an E?" Atemu laughed. "And in a shirt like that? I've heard of an easy lay, but _come on_… I have standards, Jou."

Anzu's cheeks flushed pink. The poor girl – she was kind of cute, and Malik felt sorry for her. But that didn't mean he wanted to be stuck with her. "Um, actually, I have to go too…so see you around, I guess."

She was left behind, with an ugly heartbroken frown on her face. It was all so stupid. What the hell could she know about love anyway? She was just some fool that had stared at Atemu from afar a few too many times.

* * *

Malik watched him for a while. He was crouching on his driveway, an arm wrapped around his knees. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. All around him were fantastical beings: a giant seashell that melded into an octopus, a row of marching four-legged beasts, great glassy looking eyes and about a million stars. His hands were dusty from the sticks of chalk.

He felt strange watching him, and yet he didn't want to disturb him. After protracted internal monologue, Malik climbed over the fence. He landed with an undignified bump.

Ryou looked up, startled. "Oh! It's you, Malik-kun. You could have come around on the path way you know."

"Yeah…" Malik agreed sheepishly. He rubbed his back.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine." He wandered over, careful not to step on any of the drawings. "This is amazing, Ryou-kun. The last thing I drew with chalk was a hopscotch board…and that was when I was five."

Ryou smiled as he chalked a moustache on the octopus. "I usually draw on paper. Or I paint. But it's such a beautiful day, I _had_ to go outside."

"I wish I were as creative as you."

"Oh…but don't you play the violin? I can hear it sometimes." Ryou's face looked dreamy for a moment. "It's so lovely. There's this one you keep playing. It sounds familiar – Vivaldi? Or is that your sister playing?"

"No, that's me." Malik couldn't resist boasting – his friends had always called him a 'sissy' for playing the violin, or likened the noise to a cat being decapitated with a baby bottle (however that worked). "I'm learning Four Seasons."

"You should play for me sometime," Ryou said, and then blushed. For some reason, that made Malik blush too, and the pair stared down at the figures beneath them.

"I like the octopus." Malik broke the silence. He looked at the other boy as he reached for a stick of chalk. Ryou nodded. With barely disguised glee, Malik started drawing a dinosaur in a fur coat. It was decidedly odd.

Ryou burst out laughing. It was a delightful sound. "You have a strange imagination, Malik-kun."

"Like you can talk, Moustache Man."

"Fear my mighty moustache powers!" Ryou giggled as he reached over with a chalky hand and swiped a baby pink squiggle above Malik's upper lip.

"That's it, I am so going Van Gogh over you!" Malik rubbed his hands and gave Ryou a blue beard. The two fell over, laughing. They lay on the driveway, chalk from the drawings dusting on their clothes.

It was going to be the best summer ever.

* * *

_Three__ weeks seem to last forever._

_And yet they pass by so quickly_.

* * *

"I don't know why I'm friends with him to be honest," Malik whispered. He was tucked beneath a low-growing orange tree with Ryou, and the leaves kept tickling his face. A faint scent of citrus lingered in the air, and one could almost smell the promise of honey as fat bumblebees droned around them.

"He isn't like _you_. If I talked about this emotional stuff…this _girly_ stuff with him – I don't even know what he'd do to me."

"I know."

"No, you don't," Malik insisted. He plucked a small orange, still tinged slightly green, and rolled it in his palm. "It's weird… I feel like I haven't had a real friend since my sister-"

Ryou waited.

"It's too embarrassing to say."

"I won't laugh at you."

"I wouldn't blame you if you did." Malik exhaled. "She started dating, alright? And now I feel like she doesn't have any time for me at all."

"Oh no," Ryou groaned, and he really did laugh.

"Hey! I told you not to laugh!" Malik glared at him.

"Okay, okay…I'm sorry. I guess that's understandable. But you could try looking at it differently. Aren't you happy for her?"

"No. He's an asshole."

"How?"

"He's Kaiba Asshole Seto, okay? Self-proclaimed emperor of Domino…eh, after Atemu-_sama_, I mean."

Ryou smirked. It looked a little misplaced on him. A weird gash across his sweet face.

"By the way, have you thought about going to school again?" Malik changed the subject. "Since your allergies are clearing up? And you know, if your father's really going away on his great expedition next month-"

"He might hire a tutor," Ryou said shortly. He suddenly brought his knees to his chest and folded his arms around them. The odd smirk was gone, replaced by his usual innocence.

Malik touched Ryou's shoulder lightly. "Look… If you're thinking about Aomura, don't. Those days are over now. Who even cares about junior high, anyway?"

"You'd be surprised."

"Don't be like that. I like you better when you're happy."

Ryou clumsily attempted to grin for about two seconds. "I can't just _make_ myself happy you know. Talking about things like this…"

"Well…you know that if you came to Hibiya, I'd look after you," Malik swore. He didn't know why he said that. He'd lose Atemu and Jounouchi as friends if he stuck up for Ryou, and then he would be easy prey for everybody else.

"No, you wouldn't." Ryou sighed. "But that's okay."

"Yes I would." Why wouldn't he listen to him?

"You don't have to lie."

"I'm not! I would!"

"Well, thanks for the thought."

"It's more than a thought! It's a promise!"

There was a silence. The wind heaved and the orange tumbled out of Malik's palm. Ryou picked the orange, and then put it back down. Their hands were touching now.

Malik enfolded Ryou's hand in his and held it tightly.

* * *

Malik hadn't seen Atemu and Jounouchi since the 'fishing' trip.

It didn't really matter.

He was always the one who got teased anyway. The butt of the jokes.

It was good to have a real friend, somebody who understood you. Somebody you were equal with.

Somebody like Ryou.

He had a pale, heart shaped face. Hair the colour of snow, and those thin, delicate arms. Malik always wondered if he might melt under the sun.

Frozen lips that might warm if you kissed them.

Had he really thought such a thing one balmy, sleepless night?

* * *

"_Well_, Malik, it's been a few weeks, hasn't it?"

He looked up. Atemu was standing over him, arms crossed. He had turned a warm shade of honey in the past few weeks, and his legs were slim and muscular. Jounouchi, as always, was hovering at the edges.

"Were you going to play the social outcast these holidays?" Atemu enquired. "I've been to your house more than once – though not much more than that. I do have a life outside of you, you know." He put on an affected falsetto. "Oh, is that you, Atemu-kun? Malik's busy, he's not here. Your mother doesn't ever know where you are, does she?" He shook his head.

"I've…been doing other stuff." Malik tried to assert himself. "Anyway, I'm here now, aren't I?"

"Oh, he's _here_ now. Well done." Malik's cheeks reddened. "So what other stuff have you been _doing_ then?"

Malik, not trusting himself to reply, turned a wrench about the bicycle wheel.

"Your bike." It was a statement, not a question. "No, no, I don't think so."

Jounouchi looked slightly nervous for some reason. "Oh, come off it, Temu-kun. I'm starved. Are we going to head to Lawson or not?"

"I think the only thing _you've_ been doing all summer is Bakura."

The wrench dropped to the ground.

"What did you say?"

"I _said_, the only thing you've been doing all summer is Bakura."

Malik had never hated that stupid, smug, idiotic look on Atemu's face more than at that moment. He almost tripped over in his haste to get up because _God_ he wanted to-! A look of surprise crossed Atemu's face momentarily. Malik grabbed his shirt and clenched his fist, ready to hit him. Atemu gained his sense and pushed away, but Malik pushed back. The two fell upon the concrete. Malik cursed as sharp pain shot up his spine. And cursed once more when Atemu forcefully pinned his arms down. His bloodied elbows were tingling.

There was no fucking way he was letting Atemu look down on him again.

Malik kneed the older boy. Winded, Atemu grasped his stomach. It was then Malik saw his opportunity and began to punch him with every ounce of his energy. Later, his arms would ache, but now they felt nothing but that _need_, he _had_ to make him shut up. _Just shut the fuck up, Atemu!_

Jounouchi had been standing there all the while. Yes, Malik had been answering back to Atemu more and more frequently, so he kind of deserved everything he got coming, but-

Then he remembered himself, and he yanked Malik off Atemu.

"Why the fuck do you always have to say such things?" Malik hissed. "_I don't get it._ You always have to ruin everything, don't you? You and your big fucking mouth."

There was a small river of blood running down the side of Atemu's face, and typical, he looked like a fucking war hero or something. He wiped it slowly with his index finger and didn't say anything.

This unnerved Malik.

"I would never even think of him in that way! Ever! So I've talked to him a couple of times – so what? What are you – jealous or something?"

"Not in the slightest," said Atemu calmly.

"Then what _is_ it?" Malik demanded shrilly. "We're friends. That's it. Nothing more."

* * *

"Nothing more," whispered Ryou. His face was pressed against the window, which was slightly open. The slight breeze that drifted in did nothing to cool his shame.

"You're friends with somebody like that." Jounouchi was incredulous. He looked small and childish from the second-storey.

"Yeah – so?" Obviously Malik hadn't expected him to speak.

"What do you _see_ in him?"

Atemu was silent, his bloodstained lips curving up into victory.

"God." Malik shook his head. "I don't even know."

* * *

There was an unspoken understanding that Malik would hang out with Jounouchi and Atemu as often as they had used to. The subject of Ryou was never brought up. Although occasionally Atemu would smirk without reason, his eyes oddly glacial in the sunlight. And occasionally – more than occasionally – Malik would think of the boy.

He didn't come outside anymore.

Why not?

Malik never knocked on his door to ask.

Why not?

* * *

"Hey…how are you."

Soft white hair and blue eyes peeked over the fence.

"Oh, hey Ryou." Malik looked over his shoulder for a moment.

"I'm sorry I haven't really been… Well, I thought we should hang out today. I kind of left it at the last minute, because I didn't think that you would want…" He paused and shook his head, unable to get the words out.

"I can't today. Atemu and Jounouchi will be over here any moment." Malik felt his heart clench as he said this, but he brushed it away. "So tomorrow would be better."

"Oh…in that case tomorrow sounds alright."

Malik could already hear voices down the street. "Yeah, I guess we'll decide then. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

The voices became louder, and Malik ran off before Ryou could reply.

* * *

Tomorrow passed.

And the day after.

Two more days after that.

And then suddenly the holidays were coming to a close.

* * *

_I wish I could be with you__._ Over and over again on the section of footpath outside his house, chalked in every shade of pastel possible. That was it. No name, nothing to identify the writer. Yet almost instantly Malik's eyes flickered towards the white framed window of the house next door. Because it was _so obvious_. There was nobody at the window, nor was there anything in the room. It was stripped bare, with pale sighing walls.

He ran up the path and began to beat at the door. The house echoed hollowly in reply. Malik grabbed the door handle and twisted it, but it was useless. He began to elbow the door now, throwing his weight against it.

No moving trucks, no SOLD sign anywhere. Where was Bakura Ryou?

Jounouchi's shadowed figure could be seen running in the distance, following his cries of, "Malik! Wait!" Atemu could easily have caught up but he walked slowly. He glanced from one side of the street to the other with a dreamy expression.

"How could it be my fault?" he said, speaking to nobody in particular. The white window caught his eye momentarily. "I haven't even spoken to that freak in years."

A red-tinged leaf fell on a _wish_, too early. Malik knew that it was going to rain soon, and that the chalk would be washed away. He looked up at the sky, eyes and throat stinging. Shallow breaths tickled his ribs with a gentle sadness.

It was the end of the summer days.

* * *

**Author's note: **Having finished writing this, I feel like I have closed a chapter of my life... Pfft no way. I shall reminisce until the bitter and bloody end. Anyway, I hope this made you think of your own summer days.

It is quite possible if difficult to surmise where Bakura Ryou went, from this story.

Maybe, I don't know, you'd like to leave a review?


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